Now You See Me
by Mio-san
Summary: Desperate for money, a group of teenagers lands a job performing in a magic show. But when their task proves to be riskier than expected, can the Mekakushi Dan use their exceptional abilities for a new purpose? AU, contains OCs and slight OOC!
1. The Talent, More or Less

**A/N: Minna-san, hello! **

**So before you start asking – yes, this fanfic is lightly based off of the actual **_**Now You See Me **_**movie. Lightly based because all I know about it is from previews. But since it didn't seem like a big enough connection, this is not a crossover. Just a regular story. As regular as you can get in a Mekakushi magic show, that is…**

**Anyway, I will be including the full cast of characters in this fanfic, so welcome Hibiya, Konoha, Kenjirou, and Ayano to the scene! I hope you all enjoy!**

…

Kenjirou Tateyama heaved a sigh full of annoyance, leaning back in his chair. The phone on his desk vibrated angrily with a stream of texts – most likely from his last clients, still complaining about the acrobats he had signed. How was he supposed to know that they didn't speak a word of English? He had only looked at their resumes, after all. Though that really should have been included in at least one of the categories… Rolling his eyes, Kenjirou reached forward and silenced his phone. He was sick and tired of this agency; the only "big break" they had ever achieved was a phone line gone haywire after it had attracted a bolt of lightning. Communications were down for weeks, Kenjirou lamented, remembering the string of obscenity-filled messages many of his clients had left for him when the electric company had finally gotten around to fixing it. Just another reason for him to wish he could quit his job and move to a villa somewhere on the coast.

What really hurt the most, however, was his daughter's disapproval. Ayano Tateyama was an active feminist, and frowned quite deeply upon Kenjirou's tendency to sign women solely for the "appeal" factor. He had tried to explain to her many times that it was the ugly—but profitable—side of business, but she refused to listen. _Darn girl is too stubborn, _Kenjirou scowled. _Doesn't she get that this job is the only reason we have dinner every night? Not that it's much, but honestly!_

He supposed, at times, that he could understand Ayano's constant criticism. Kenjirou's line of work disgusted even him at times—talent agencies were the lowest of the low, exploiting poor souls with true potential to sell them to the entertainment industry for millions. But it was the only way for someone like him to earn a (somewhat) steady income, and he would continue to do his job, even if he and Ayano disliked himself for it.

_Good God, what's happened to me?_

The intercom crackled, and the bored voice of Kenjirou's secretary filled the room. "Oya, Tateyama-san. Did you have an appointment… now?"

Kenjirou, inspecting the quality of his nails, gave a start. "Why do you want to know?"

The secretary was silent for a moment. Then his voice came through once again, mingling with the static. "There are a bunch of kids out here saying they've got an appointment with you. Wanna confirm, or do you want me to kick 'em out?"

Leaning forward in curiosity, Kenjirou laced his fingers in the most professional way he could think of. "Hey, why not. Send 'em in, will you?"

There was another period of silence, in which he imagined the secretary rolling his eyes. "Roger that, Tateyama-san. Counting down the seconds until the day ends."

"You and I both," offered Kenjirou, and the intercom fell silent. He sat up straight in his chair, adjusting his glasses, pulling a hand through his messy blond hair, and scraping the remains of that day's lunch off of his teeth. Usually he would have turned away kids, but today had been a slow day, and he needed some redemption. Hopefully they would show at least some sort of talent, or one of them would be astonishingly attractive. The recording studio downtown _was _looking for a new artist, weren't they? They were well equipped with auto-tune, weren't they?

Setting those thoughts aside as he heard a knock on the door, Kenjirou summoned the smuggest expression he knew and plastered it across his face. "Come in!"

There was a moment's hesitation before the door opened.

The first to enter was a rather short, blond-haired boy, with an easygoing smirk resting lightly on his face. Following him was a teenager with a purple hoodie and deadpan expression, long, jade green hair resting on his? Her? chest. Then, a dark-haired teen materialized behind them, eyes darting around in curiosity as he rested his hand on a mountain of white curls, cowering behind him. Next to enter the office was a boy with unruly dark hair and a red jersey, clutching a phone in his hand like a lifeline. A perky-looking blonde girl, who grinned and tensed in excitement as she entered the office, trailed him. Still after her was an even younger boy, bordering on child, who scowled and tried to shoulder his way to the front, only to practically trip backwards into the very last individual, a white-haired boy without a shred of emotion on his face. He closed the door behind them and found his way to the other side of the room, at the very end of the line these teenagers had formed in front of Kenjirou. They all eyed him expectantly.

_Well, _thought Kenjirou. _Looks like I have to make the first move, then._

He rose from his desk and spread his hands in welcome, attempting to smile at each of them in turn. It was rather difficult. "So, you must be the talent! I'm Tateyama Kenjirou, and you are…?"

There followed an awkward silence where the blonde boy and the jade-haired teen had a silent battle of glares and grins (the latter of which was from the blonde). Finally, the girl/guy stepped forward, raising her/his chin with the same unimpressed face. "We're the Mekakushi Dan," she announced, her voice in fact feminine. "I'm Kido Tsubomi, and this is Kano Shuuya—" the blonde smirked and saluted—"Seto Kousuke—" the dark-haired boy smiled—"Kozakura Mary—" the white-haired girl shrunk behind Kousuke—"Kisaragi Momo—" the teen girl flashed a peace sign—"Kisaragi Shintarou—" the boy with the red jersey ducked his head—"Amamiya Hibiya—" the smaller boy squirmed uncomfortably—"and Konoha." Kenjirou noted that the white-haired boy wasn't introduced with a surname, which excited him. Maybe he was one of those eccentric street types belonging to a cult with an obscure religion. You never knew.

"And as for talent," drawled Shuuya, casting a mischievous grin at Tsubomi, "we're basically a jack-of-all-trades type thi—ouch!" This last remark was made to Tsubomi, who had elbowed him in the stomach. Coughing, he nudged the furious girl's shoulder. "Hey, I was joking!"

"Just keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you," she growled, and Kenjirou recoiled. Clearly, Tsubomi was someone to tread carefully around. He made a mental note.

"Well," he said, trying to smile. "Pleased to meet all of you. Now if you would like to have a seat…"

The blond-haired man trailed off. There were only three other chairs in the room—one in the corner, and two directly in front of his desk. Without a shred of hesitation, Tsubomi claimed one. Hibiya flopped into the other, both of them sitting before Kenjirou. In the corner, Kousuke had offered the remaining chair to Mary, who accepted it, blushing. He stood next to her and leaned easily against the wall. Momo, clearly displeased, was trying to nudge Hibiya out of the other chair, using her superior stature to her advantage (and she did have quite a nice stature, noticed Kenjirou. That was something worth selling to the producers). Shintarou shrunk back into the other corner, visibly attempting to disappear. Konoha stood next to him, showing next to no signs of fatigue. And Shuuya rested against the back of Tsubomi's chair, playing with a strand of her hair. She apparently did not seem to care.

_Ha,_ thought Kenjirou, a somewhat random notion in his train of thought. _That rhymed._

"So! Tell me about yourselves," he encouraged them. "Got any special talents, anything you'd like to share with the world, anything worth selling…" This last remark was made in a (slightly) quieter voice.

Momo lifted a finger. "I can sing pretty well."

Kenjirou was starting to like this girl even more. He nodded, satisfied. "Great. Anything else? Little girl in the corner… ah, I mean, Kozakura-san?"

Mary stiffened at her mention, leaning towards Kousuke, who smiled apologetically. "Sorry, she's kind of shy. We're still figuring out her talent."

_Meaning, _Kenjirou groaned inwardly, _that she's useless. _"Seto-san?"

He rubbed Mary's head and shrugged, his expression wide and open. "I'm kind of an animal whisperer. That is, I'm alright with animals… so I guess you could call that a talent."

Kenjirou nodded once more. "Interesting. Next?"

"I'm an illusionist," Shuuya proclaimed, and Tsubomi stiffened, but did nothing. "Self-trained, I might add."

"Alright, good, impressive," said Kenjirou, continuing to nod. "What about you two, over there?" He gestured to Shintarou and Konoha.

The white-haired boy was the first to speak up. "I can perform feats of strength."

_That would not have been my first choice, _Kenjirou thought dubiously, surveying Konoha's scrawny stature and calm features. But hey, some of the best entertainers were weirdos. "And you?" he inquired, pointing at Shintarou.

The dark-haired teenager shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah… I'm pretty good with technology and things. Like… effects, and stuff," he offered, as Momo rolled her eyes. Kenjirou remembered fleetingly that the two of them shared a last name… so siblings, most likely. _That would have made for a cute double act,_ he thought in annoyance. _Too bad this kid's got the look of a hikikomori_.

"Alright, okay," he continued, moving on to the kids in front of his desk. "Ah… Amamiya-san, was it? Anything you've got?"

Hibiya looked startled at Kenjirou's use of honorifics, but quickly regained his look of boredom. "I dunno," he droned.

Blanching, Kenjirou decided to try again. "Anything special you can do?"

"Nope."

"Any… talent you'd like to share?"

"Not really."

"Wouldn't you like to make your parents proud?"

"Don't have any."

Kenjirou growled in frustration. "Can you dance?"

"Ha, that's funny."

"Can you sing?"

"Only in the shower."

"Can you mime?"

"No idea."

"Can you do _anything_?" said Kenjirou, biting his lip.

Hibiya crossed his arms and twisted his lips in a mockery of a pout. "Isn't that _your _job?"

_Little brat, _Kenjirou seethed, but managed to keep a smile on his face, even though it was forced. "Okay!" he said through gritted teeth. "Kido-san, what about you?"

Tsubomi raised an eyebrow at him—the most expression he had seen out of her thus far—and tugged at her sleeve. "I can disappear," she said almost silently.

Shuuya punched her lightly in the arm. "Aw, don't be modest!" He turned to Kenjirou. "She's _amazing. _Walk into a room, nobody'll notice her as long as she's trying—" The blonde was cut off as Tsubomi deftly sprung from her chair, whipped around, and twisted Shuuya's hood, yanking him backwards. He stumbled into the wall, miraculously still grinning, and Tsubomi growled, turning her back on the rest of the kids. She eyed Kenjirou with an icy glare.

_Yep, _thought Kenjirou. _Definitely someone to tread carefully around._

He laughed, a nervous sound in the tense atmosphere. "Well, clearly we've got a very talented group right here! Of course, I can't just take your word for it. We happen to have an small auditorium in this very building. Would you all follow me? It's time for a little screening."

Before Kenjirou could rise from his chair, Tsubomi lifted a finger. "Wait. We have to perform? As in… in front of you?"

"Of course," muttered Shuuya in her ear. He had apparently recovered from the green-haired girl's assault and seemed to be taking an even greater pleasure in irritating her. "What did you think the word 'audition' meant? Ah, has Leader possibly caught a case of stage fright~?"

"I never said anything like that!" said Tsubomi, her voice a little shriller than it needed to be. She stood up faster than Kenjirou could process and locked her eyebrows in a stubborn frown. "We've got an audition, let's do it already."

"O-okay, then," agreed the blond-haired man, standing up as well._ If you don't need to persuade them, don't. Let them choose. _"If you're all sure about this, would you all follow me…" He maneuvered around Hibiya and Shuuya and headed for the door, trailed by the uncertain-looking teenagers—with the exception of Tsubomi, who now looked darkly determined. Down the hall they went, then tromped up a few flights of stairs, and emerged at a new floor, into a darker hallway with fewer windows. Kenjirou led their small group past the dim lighting and through a sloppily labeled door, black paint peeling off at the edges. And then they were in the auditorium—the very low-budget auditorium, barely paid for by the agency's minute allowance, with just a few rows of seats, a makeshift judging table, and, of course, a stage. The stage, Kenjirou often thought, was probably the most vintage thing in the building. It was just a simple platform with a crumbling arch slapped onto the front and a few cheap curtains hanging from either side. _As if that would do this wreck of a place justice, _thought Kenjirou sourly. The acoustics were lousy, naturally, and every once in a while, the air conditioner sputtered and wailed in a feeble attempt to get itself working. But other than that, he could usually pull off the impression that they were not as cheap as they looked… though it appeared that it would not work on these kids. Looks of puzzlement and disdain contorted their faces as they followed Kenjirou in. "Nice place," chortled Shuuya as he walked past.

"Tell me about it," Kenjirou murmured_, _pulling out the chair at the judging table to a horrible screech of metal against wood. He settled himself in the chair (which was far too small for any adult male) and gestured the kids onstage, shifting in a vain attempt to get comfortable. _Ayano, if you could see me now._ "Are you ready?"

Tsubomi (she seemed to be the leader of their little group) nodded, glancing at the others, as they filed onto the tiny platform. "Yes. We're all ready," she added, as if filling the space with words would release the tension in the air.

Kenjirou nodded, pulling a notebook from the rickety drawer where it was always kept. The notebook was filled with scribbles and doodles, carefully (read: carelessly) kept records of each and every amateur shooting for a spot in the talent agency's clientele. _Not that that's a good thing, _the blonde man smirked. _But they don't have to know._

He cleared his throat. "Whenever you're ready."

…

Kenjirou's secretary, a college dropout by the name of Hidaka Jiro, was picking at his nails and staring longingly out the window when his corded company phone buzzed. He blinked and picked it up, making sure to give the cord an extra tug for maximum sound quality.

"Tateyama Kenjirou-san's office. How may I help you today?" Jiro's voice was bored and obviously rehearsed.

"Jiro!" shouted a voice through the other end, and the man jerked the phone away from his ear in shock. "Are you listening? This is Kenjirou!"

Eyes wide, Jiro pressed the phone against his ear. "What is it? Tateyama-san?"

"Get me eight contracts down here immediately!" Kenjirou shrieked through the very, very cheap phone. "Hurry, Jiro! I think our time has finally come!"

Jiro dropped the phone, grabbed the first stack of papers he saw, and bolted.

…

**A/N: Too abrupt? I hope not! That was kind of the point, but if you guys disagree… the reviews are down there! Thanks everyone for reading!**


	2. Dinner and a Show

**A/N: Yo!**

**So, looks like NYSM has gotten a lot of positive reception (read: five reviews, seven follows, and one favorite) so I'm going to carry on! POV is still undetermined, meaning I'll be skipping around from character to character until I decide. If you guys have some opinions, too, you know where the reviews are!**

**And speaking of reviews: a quick thank-you to CitizenOfHedwigpolis, VacuumTan, Forgot d Initial, NNeko, and koryandrs, my first reviewers! I love you guys!**

…

"Dinner's ready!"

It wasn't often that the Mekakushi Dan sat down at the table and had a formal meal. But it was nice, Kido decided as she plated the food, if not slightly irritating… as none of them seemed to have the faintest idea of table manners.

"We're going to be on TV!" squeaked Mary, half-leaping out of her seat. "We're going to perform, and become famous, and—"

"We're not going to be on TV," corrected Momo, downing a gulp of her special-brand soda. "We're just performing."

"Leave it to oba-san to kill the mood," Hibiya mumbled.

"_What was that?!_"

As Momo half-strangled Hibiya, Kido stepped over a pile of discarded shoes and began to serve the plates. "Relax, you two," she commanded, setting down the last dish and falling wearily into her seat. "This is for money, nothing more. We're just going to do a few gigs and get the heck out of there."

"I dunno," said Seto thoughtfully, spearing a stalk of microwave broccoli and deftly avoiding Momo's enraged fists. "This could be pretty fun. I mean, how many times in your life to perform in front of a crowd? I'm pretty excited, myself."

"I agree," said Konoha quietly, and everyone jumped. They weren't very used to the albino android's voice, as he didn't speak often.

"Well, considering our eye abilities, I think we'll all be just fine~!" Kano leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "After all, why worry? If things get bad, we can just use Leader's concealment and get out of—"

"The _point _is," interrupted Kido, "we got the job. Now would everyone just move on?"

Panting, Momo sat back in her seat, leaving Hibiya somewhere out of sight (Kido guessed he was under the table, but decided not to check. She didn't feel like paying another hospital bill). "If you say so," she chirped. "But personally, I think this is gonna be fun! I can see it now: 'Introducing the world-renowned act, Mekameka Dan!"

Kido rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to correct the energetic blonde, but then someone else cleared his throat.

"Says you," muttered Shintarou, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "By the time we get onstage, this thing will have turned into a living—"

"Oh, _do _shut up, Master!" Ene's cheerful voice emitted from the speakers on the hikikomori's phone, which was lying next to his plate. The cyber girl clapped her hands together, bunching up her overly long sleeves. "None of you are any help! Personally, I'm just excited that we're going to get to perform!"

"Hold on," Shintarou shot back. "_We're_? The agent didn't sign _you, _he signed _us_, and that's _not _including _you_!"

"Umm, technically, Shintarou-san," Mary piped up, "by signing you, he s-signed Ene-chan, didn't he? After all, Ene is tech-ni-cal-ly—" she sounded out the word carefully—"your property."

Everyone stared at that.

"See, Master?" said Ene gleefully. "Even Mary-chan agrees! Now I just have to pick out a costume and everything will be se—"

Shintarou locked his phone.

…

The rest of dinner passed without incident, though Hibiya emerging covered in bruises from the bathroom was a low point in their night. After they had finished, Seto helped Kido carry the plates to the kitchen while the rest of the Mekakushi Dan split up—Kano and Momo crashed on the couch, flipping through channels before settling on a certain reality show that annoyed Kido to no end (she would have suspected Kano of selecting it especially for her, if not for Momo's naïve but good-natured presence), Mary retreated to her room to read manga (what kind, exactly, Kido wasn't sure, but she wasn't eager to find out), Konoha collapsed on the lounge with a plush triceratops (_That reminds me, _thought Kido, _I need to wash the one he stained_), and Hibiya napped next to him. Shintarou had also disappeared into his room, most likely composing another song and doing his best to keep Ene away from it. This, Kido was almost positive about.

She rolled up her sleeves and tied up waves of green hair, letting it tickle her back as she and Seto loaded the plates into the sink. When they finished, Kido looked at Seto, who appeared ready as ever. "That's it. You can go hang out with Mary, or whatever."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I can get this done." Kido banged the faucet twice and water emerged, sputtering and pouring into the sink. Within seconds, steam was rising. "You must be tired."

"Well, aren't you, too?" Seto frowned at her.

Kido tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and began to wash the first plate. "Sure, but I'm the leader around here. I can't expect anyone else to get anything done. And you know it's true!" she added quickly, as the dark-haired teen chuckled.

"I know, I know," he sighed. "But you work yourself too hard."

With a tiny laugh, Kido grabbed a towel from the rack and expertly dried the plate. "It's my job. Now go and lecture Mary about what's appropriate to read."

"She never listens to me," protested Seto with a laugh, before Kido pushed him out of the kitchen with a mixture of annoyance and affection on her face.

"Move," she ordered, and then Seto disappeared upstairs.

Kido sighed, a small smile resting on her lips, and returned to the sink. It was amazing how fast things had moved after the audition. And they had barely had a chance to show what they could do before… _He was a strange guy, Tateyama Kenjirou, _she mused, moving on to the next plate. _Good God, the whole place was unprofessional. And the way he looked at Momo… _Kido shuddered. _Oh, screw it all. Like I told them, it's only for money. _Just _for money. That's all._

She let a near-silent laugh escape. It was all so ridiculous, the whole thing. Konoha, a muscle man. Shintarou, a tech expert (which she found semi-believable). Ene, a phantom cyber girl (whom the unfortunate Kenjirou had yet to discover). Seto, an animal whisperer. Kano, an illusionist. Momo, a singer (which Kido also found somewhat believable). Mary, a… well, she wasn't sure if the young medusa's "talent" had a classification. But that was just another reason that went to show how incredibly, amazingly ridiculous it was.

_We were just a bunch of teenagers without families or money. There was only one thing we had in common._

Sure, they had moved up a notch after Mary had begun selling artificial flowers for income. Sure, they were able to afford an apartment after Seto began taking on odd jobs. But both of those incomes had started to decline, and now their rag-tag group was desperate for money of any kind—thus explaining the Mekakushi Dan's detour to the talent agency.

It wasn't the most ideal place to be in, Kido thought. She hated the idea of depending on anyone other than the people she was close to. _But, _the jade-haired girl sighed, scrubbing her plate furiously, _I guess that's life for you._

…

"Aaaaaaand now, introduuuuuucing, a rising star in the idol world, Moooooooomooooooo Kisaraaaaaaaagiiiiiiiiii!"

For what Kido was certain was the third time in a row, she yanked out her headphones and glared irritably at Momo and Kano, who had abandoned the reality show in favor of roleplay. "Oi, do you mind? I've got music playing over here."

"Ah~ sorry, Leader!" Kano readjusted the imaginary microphone in his hand. "I'll try to be louder. _LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—_"

"Hey, hey, you're cracking my eardrums!" shouted Hibiya from the floor. He was working on a puzzle with Konoha of—what else?—a triceratops. "If you're going to shout, do it outside, huh?"

Momo crossed her arms and smirked. "Oh, _I_ see. Now who's nagging, hmm?"

Hibiya flushed with anger as Konoha looked on quietly, observing the brown-haired boy and the older teenage girl as they bickered. Kido gave a silent groan and slipped her headphones back on, their reassuring beat blocking out Momo and Hibiya's quarreling. She watched their mouths move silently as Kano chortled behind his hand, shoulders shaking, and poor Seto and Mary, who had moved their manga-reading downstairs, looked on in defeat. Shintarou, who was sitting on the other end of the couch with Ene and his computer, sighed so loudly that Kido could hear it through her headphones.

_Yep. Just another night at the headquarters of the Mekakushi Dan._

…

Ryo Hayashi knew nervousness when he saw it.

He had learned the hard way to recognize what people could easily (or not so easily) conceal, after a safari in Kenya had taken a turn for the worse. As a result, Ryo considered himself an expert in detecting others' thoughts and emotions. He could pick a stranger from the street and tell them things they didn't even know about themselves, and decipher the root of any social problem one might encounter. Though he didn't consider himself a psychologist, Ryo knew he could investigate the inside of people's minds without much trouble. It was easy, really… like opening an unlocked door.

But this man… he was different.

He stood impassively before Ryo, one foot tapping impatiently, dark tuxedo blending easily with the dim lighting. One hand ruffled the clipped black hair grazing his forehead, while another clutched a pure black briefcase. One only needed to see so many action movies to know that a black briefcase meant trouble. But for Ryo, a briefcase meant something entirely different, something similarly associated with said item.

It meant money.

"You wanted to see me, Hayashi-san." The man's voice was deep and guttural, contrasting harshly with the youth in his appearance.

"Yes." Ryo steepled his fingers and looked up at him. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, I know you were off call."

"It's no problem." He eyed Ryo. "But I would prefer that you not contact me directly. Next time, send a messenger."

"Ah—right." Ryo flushed. "But this _is _quite an astonishing opportunity. I wanted the best of the best. You—er—_did _bring the data, didn't you?"

"Of course." The man set the briefcase on the table. "It's all here, including a copy of birth certificates, phone records, and headshots."

"Headshots?"

"Naturally. You did hire the best of the best." Though the statement could have been accompanied with a smile, the man's face remained impassive.

Ryo clicked open the briefcase and his eyes widened. "I see now that I did. This is much appreciated."

The man gave a slight bow. "Thank you, Hayashi-san." His gaze hardened as he straightened. "I _will _receive compensation on the floor, will I not?"

Ryo nodded firmly. "I've already arranged for the transaction. Someone will be waiting for you as you exit. But don't go yet."

"Right." The man had barely moved, but Ryo wanted to be certain that he wasn't going anywhere. This particular individual, he knew, was infamous for making an appearance and disappearing just as quickly.

"So… I'm assuming there's a reason you wish for me to stay."

"Yes, of course." Ryo rushed to form the words in his mouth. "I know that it's usually data you collect, but I would like for you to stick around on this job."

The man gave a start. "I see."

"Are you alright with that?"

"As long as it is included in my pay, I don't mind, but might I ask why, exactly?" The man fixed Ryo with a penetrating stare.

This, however, did not daunt Ryo, and he merely leaned back in his chair. "I'm afraid I can't give you all of the details at the moment, but just know that there is more to be done."

The man scowled. "I will have to go on more than that."

Flexing his fingers with impatience, Ryo wished that his superiors had let him reveal more information. "I _do _apologize, I truly do. But there is nothing more I can reveal at the moment."

"A—As you wish." The man looked as if he wished to throttle Ryo.

The atmosphere became tense, and then the man spoke up once more. "My employer tells me that we are dealing with a new case."

Ryo, one who was rarely startled, blanched. "So she _has _told you some of it. I assumed they would be keeping most of it secret."

The man chuckled, suddenly pleased to have gotten more of a reaction out of Ryo. "Well, of course. Am I not her most skilled employee? Surely she would give me more than the basics of a mission like this one."

_Screw it. _Ryo squirmed. He hated it when people had the same as or a higher level of information than him. "That's all very well and good. But _what _did she tell you, exactly?"

A smile found its way onto the man's face, one more twisted than the average expression of pleasure, and Ryo suddenly wished he had been more polite. "I'm afraid," he said, "that I cannot give you all of the details at the moment."

_You bastard, _raged Ryo silently, but kept a neutral expression on his face. "I see," he said in a quiet, calm voice. "Well, then, we're going to have to figure this out our own ways, then."

"Naturally." The man smiled.

They remained in silence for a moment longer, then Ryo's voice broke the silence. "Before you go, there's one more thing."

The man, who had already started to edge towards the door, stopped in his tracks. He turned back to Ryo once more and cocked his head. "Yes?"

Ryo took a moment to form his question. "The targets… you _do _know whom we're up against, don't you?"

His companion gave another smile, which sent a chill down Ryo's spine and froze the room. "But of course, Hayashi-san."

"And…" Ryo hated the feeling of needles that pricked at his fingers whenever that man looked at him. "You _do _know what they're capable of?"

The man was silent. Several moments passed, and just when Ryo began to think that he'd really done it this time, the other spoke up, his golden eyes glowing in the dark.

"I know perfectly well what they're capable of," he said easily, straightening his tie and pausing at the door. "And that, Hayashi-san, is precisely why _I _am the perfect person for the job."

…

**A/N: Gotta love cliffhangers!**

**Okay, so I must have spent at least two hours on this chapter, but at the end I guess I really got into it. Who d'you think the mysterious man in black is? I'll give you a hint—he's not an OC!**

**Well, I'm going out to have steaks. See ya!**


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